100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?

As for the matter of the Statue and Noctra, Lucien was taken aback when the king left the decision entirely in his hands.

He had expected at the very least that the Statue would be taken away for investigation.

The castle officials were just as confused though the disguised Midas offered no further explanation.

By then, evening was fast approaching.

Lucien decided to return to Lootwell first but that meant leaving someone to watch over his new territory. Fortunately, Sebas stepped forward and volunteered.

Lucien approved without hesitation. 'If it's Sebas, nothing will go wrong.'

"Everyone, until I return, my trusted steward Sebas will act in my stead. His word carries my seal. Any matter may be brought before him."

Then with his first command as Lord of this territory, he said...

"Send riders to every village under Coalheart. Spread the word that they now have a new Lord."

He added more quietly...

"Sebas, I'll return tomorrow. Keep this place secure. I'll also leave the ugly bitch here for now. Tomorrow, I'll bring the Brainwashed Group here."

Sebas bowed. "As you will, young Lord."

Turning to the gathered officials and nobles, Lucien asked, "Lords and Ladies, it grows late. Would you care to stay in my territory for the night?"

At that, every gaze shifted toward one man... the disguised Midas.

To Lucien's surprise, he answered readily.

"It would be our pleasure, Baron."

Lucien inclined his head then gestured for them to follow. Cielius, Edric and Maxim stayed close at his side.

Edric leaned closer, whispering in frustration.

"Nephew… could I possibly get another one of your masks? A certain someone made off with mine." He clasped his hands together like a beggar asking for a favor.

Maxim tugged at him, coughing into his fist to cover his embarrassment. "Ed, aren't you ashamed? Show some restraint."

"Restraint? Hah. I'm just saying what you're too shy to admit," Edric retorted.

The two of them exchanged playful jabs, drawing a quiet giggle from Lucien.

"Don't worry about it, Uncles. We're family. No need to be so stiff. I'll make sure you each get one when we arrive."

At that, both men's eyes lit up.

"GAHAHA! Indeed, we are family!" Edric roared with laughter, startling several of the officials.

When they finally reached the place where Edric had parked the airship, Lucien graciously ushered the officials and nobles aboard first. His own group entered last.

Meanwhile, the two disguised figures whispered between themselves, marveling at the craft all over again.

"No matter how many times I see it… who would've thought such refined craftsmanship was possible," Augustus muttered in awe.

"Yes. Even more stunning in person than in my visions," Midas agreed. His eyes gleamed as he traced the lines of the vessel. "Not even my skill could replicate this exactly. But… if I had the blueprint, perhaps I could build one." He spoke with pride.

Meanwhile, the officials were far less restrained.

They circled Edric with eager questions as their eyes gleamed with desire.

Lucien stayed quiet. He and Edric had already planned this. For now, Edric was the one handling the airship.

"Marquis, can you sell us the formula?" one of them pressed.

Edric crossed his arms and shook his head firmly. "Now, now. This is my family's exclusive ride. Not something to hand out so casually."

But the officials weren't deterred.

With even a single airship, their lives would change.

No more days of arduous travel just for inspections.

No more delays at the borders.

In one day, they could soar back and forth from the capital to distant territories.

To them, the airship wasn't merely transportation. It was power, prestige and the height of comfort. Riding such a titan would make them the envy of the kingdom.

"At least sell one to the castle," another official urged hopefully.

Edric paused, rubbing his chin. "Hmm… let me think about it."

He closed one eye in an exaggerated gesture of thought. His expression was so overdone it looked like he was pondering the mysteries of the world.

Lucien nearly burst out laughing. 'Uncle Ed, you really know how to play your part. Just as we agreed.'

After a long pause... so long the officials were holding their breath... Edric finally spoke.

"Alright. But…"

The single word lit up every face in the room. They leaned forward in anticipation.

"You'll cover all the materials and costs," Edric continued. His tone became firm. "And I don't work for free."

Relief washed over the officials. They eagerly pulled out quills and parchment as Edric began reciting a list of materials.

Lucien who was listening closely was stunned.

'Wait… that's not the right amount!'

Edric wasn't just padding the requirements... he was doubling, no, tripling the quantities!

Lucien felt a vein throb at his temple.

"…and three Aether Core Crystals for the most crucial component," Edric concluded with a satisfied huff.

Then with perfect timing, he winked at Lucien and gave a discreet thumbs-up.

Lucien almost laughed aloud.

'Wow. This feels like daylight robbery. Well… not like I haven't done worse. I'll leave my fate to karma.'

Meanwhile, the officials scribbled furiously, nodding as though everything made perfect sense.

Even the two disguised powerhouses listened in agreement, showing no hint of suspicion. To them, if anything... the requirements sounded too modest.

And in truth, perhaps they weren't wrong. Without the system's flawless crafting efficiency or Lucien's Crafting Division, there was no guarantee of success.

Building something of this scale without trial and error would be nearly impossible. More materials meant more chances at success.

Lucien who was spoiled by perfection had simply forgotten what failure looked like.

•••

Soon, the airship descended over Lootwell. From above, the guests marveled at the scene below.

"Strange vehicles…" one official muttered as they spotted the locals pedaling through the streets on bicycles. Their eyes lit up at the sight... yet another mode of transportation they had never imagined.

As the vessel touched down, Lucien's people gathered to greet him. He introduced the guests first then turned to Sinep.

"Prepare a feast for the guest," Lucien commanded as he handed over cuts of monster meat drops.

Sinep's eyes gleamed the moment he saw the ingredients. Beside him, Anya who was now his disciple... recognized the ingredients instantly. Both bustled off with excitement to begin preparations.

Turning back to the nobles and officials, Lucien asked with a gentle smile, "Lords and Ladies. While my subjects prepare our dinner, would you care for a tour of my beloved territory?"

The question was met with silence... Not from hesitation but from awe.

They drew in deep breaths. The very air here felt different.

Pure.

Rich.

Invigorating.

Just breathing seemed to wash away fatigue.

As the sun slipped past the horizon, the streetlights began to flicker to life. They cast a warm and pleasant glow across the territory.

The soft radiance illuminated the streets and buildings, enhancing Lootwell's charm until the place felt almost enchanted.

The visitors fell in love instantly.

One of the older officials chuckled wistfully. "Hah… I wouldn't mind retiring here."

Several others nodded in agreement.

Midas and Augustus exchanged a glance as they breathed in the air of Lootwell. The energy here was dense and pure. Without a word, they both nodded.

There's an unspoken understanding passing between them.

Lucien continued leading the tour. He greeted his subjects warmly along the way as they bowed or waved to them.

Then... Midas froze.

His eyes narrowed. His expression twisted for the briefest of moments before he smoothed it away. In a low whisper to Augustus, he asked...

"Augustus… why is your hidden child here? Did you interfere again? I told you before not to—"

"Child? What child? I have no—" Augustus stopped mid-sentence. His eyes landed on someone in the crowd and his voice faltered. Beads of cold sweat formed along his back.

Midas clenched his fist. He was tempted to smack him then and there but restrained himself.

The figure they spoke of was already approaching.

"Welcome home, my Lord. And welcome, dear guests... to our paradise." Clara's voice was serene. Her holy smile was calm and unwavering.

Lucien nearly choked.

"Ah—Clara! You're here!" His forehead dampened with sweat.

'The Pope is here… and he must have realized Clara is from the Holy Nation. Will he be angry that I took a priestess under me?'

But when Lucien dared to glance at Augustus, he saw no sign of fury... only an unreadable calm. He exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

"Everyone," Lucien announced with a smile, "this woman is our neighborhood's greatest priestess."

Clara bowed gracefully. Yet her expression remained unreadable. Her gaze pierced as if she could see straight into their souls.

Then... her eyes locked onto one man.

Augustus.

"Excuse me, dear guest," she said softly. "Have we possibly met before?"

The crowd stiffened. Beads of sweat gathered at the officials' brows.

"I don't believe so, young lady. Perhaps you've mistaken me for someone else," Augustus replied with a courteous smile.

"My apologies," Clara answered though her tone lingered. "I thought you resembled someone I once knew…"

Augustus tilted his head, feigning casual curiosity. "Oh? May I ask who this person is? Perhaps I might know him."

Clara's expression hardened for a fraction of a second. "No… please don't trouble yourself. He was someone insignificant… and unpleasant. Best forgotten."

Before she could continue, Lucien stepped forward quickly. He whispered, "Clara. Be kind to our "guests"."

Clara's divine sense could not be deceived. Lucien knew it.

She had already recognized the Pope through his color. Her way of speaking confirmed as much and Lucien's heart tightened at the weight of her words.

Then, Clara smiled again.

"My apologies, everyone. To atone for any offense I may have caused, allow me to bestow a blessing."

She lifted her hands and a luminous spell blossomed in the air. It washed over everyone like a gentle tide. At once, they felt strengthened.

"This blessing will last for the day," Clara said. Then her eyes lingered on one person. "But it will not touch corrupted souls."

Her gaze pinned Augustus before she bowed gracefully and departed.

Augustus was speechless. His lips parted but no words came out.

He hadn't expected this... hadn't expected her... and for the first time in decades, emotions clashed inside him, leaving him hollow and uncertain.

Midas caught his reaction and nearly burst into laughter. Instead, he leaned in and whispered just loud enough for Augustus to hear.

"I believe you now, Augustus. It seems fate has brought her to him... not that unpleasant man she once knew… Hah!"

Augustus clenched his jaw, unable to reply.

And so, the tour continued.

Before long, the officials made an unusual request. They wished to meet the one responsible for crafting Lucien's attire from the banquet.

Lucien chuckled and obliged, leading them to the base of the Crafting Division.

"Elk," Lucien called warmly, "you've become famous in the capital. Everyone adored the garb you tailored for me."

Elk looked up, a bit startled then smiled with pride. "Young Lord, it was nothing special. If you wish, I can make ten more. It will be ready by tomorrow."

At those words, the officials froze. 'Ten more? By tomorrow?'

When Lucien ushered them inside, their disbelief deepened.

The building brimmed with artistry and invention.

Garments of varied design.

Masterful weapons.

Polished jewelry.

Even refined potions and alchemical concoctions.

Each section hummed with skilled hands at work.

The true shock, however, was the people themselves.

Here, craftspeople weren't confined to a single trade.

They forged, they sewed, they brewed, they carved... seamlessly shifting from one craft to another as though barriers between disciplines didn't exist.

The officials stood stunned as their worldviews cracked apart at the sight.

The Lootwell Territory... Though small, it was undeniably formidable.

A Tier 6 priestess who could bless entire groups…

Craftsmen who were not only masters of their trades but also versatile across disciplines…

And a twelve-year-old lord whose aura carried the same weight as the king himself.

Everyone was speechless.

The nobles then crowded eagerly around Elk, commissioning her to create special and unique garbs.

Elk fidgeted, clearly overwhelmed and her gaze darted toward Lucien.

"Young Lord… can I get some coffee?" she asked guiltily.

Lucien exhaled and shook his head. "Only this time."

He handed her a few coffee drops.

Elk beamed, instantly energized. "Yay! Dear Guests, your garments will be ready by tomorrow. Please be patient until then."

The nobles froze. 'By tomorrow?'

Meanwhile, Midas was fixated not on Elk but on the other craftsmen. His eyes followed their swift, precise movements. His chest stirred with something old and familiar. The fire of a true craftsman's spirit.

Augustus, however, remained silent. His mood was still weighed down by Clara's earlier words.

At last, Midas spoke.

"Baron… I think your people are more than capable of building the airship."

Lucien fell quiet.

"Ahem… perhaps," Lucien answered vaguely. "My people do their best."

But Midas's gaze lingered on the workshop, on the seamless cooperation and skill. His voice carried a thoughtful edge.

"With the airship, you can truly feel that this world is small. Don't you think so, Baron?"

Lucien tilted his head. He didn't understand. "I think… it's big enough as it is."

Midas finally looked back at him. A helpless smile tugged at his lips.

He said nothing more.

•••

Lucien led the group into the mini castle where a feast awaited on a long table draped in fine cloth.

The aroma hit them first. Their stomachs growled in unison and even the most composed among them found it difficult to maintain their dignity.

The dishes themselves were unlike anything they had seen before.

The first bite silenced the hall.

Chewing slowly, their eyes widened. A glow seemed to flicker in them as if they couldn't quite believe what they were tasting. Then, without hesitation, forks and spoons moved again.

Second bite.

Third bite.

Soon, the feast was alive with the sounds of satisfied guests unable to resist another helping.

It wasn't just delicious. It was the best food they had ever eaten.

And then they noticed something strange. With every mouthful, they felt lighter and stronger as though the fatigue of travel was being washed away from within.

Lucien who was watching from his seat mused.

'Of course it would be this good. Sinep have skills tied to the craft itself. And there is Anya… a legendary figure yet to make a name in history.'

The hearty meal did more than fill their bellies. It restored their spirits as though the very essence of strength was hidden in each dish.